The Bittersweet
by Sapphire1112
Summary: Connie has Cancer and she needs her Grace. I do not own the Characters. Warning for strong emotions. Strachamp.


**Connie**

"Ethan told us."

My heart breaks yet again with those three words. I've lost count of how many times its been broken.

The first time it broke, my then-husband was responsible. I didn't know what heart-break was until that. There have been other men since. The ones who mattered also broke my heart. Most of them only got one chance.

The more painful heart-breaks I've endured were caused by my daughter, but I'm not blaming her. Never.

A lot of the motherly love I've tried to give her has been badly misguided and, painful though it was when she rejected me, I couldn't blame her for it. Also equally painful are the times when she's been ill or injured – hurt in some way. But the longest-lasting pain comes from being separated from her. It hurts even more than last time because, this time, I didn't choose it thinking I was doing the right thing – and it hurts more because Grace thinks I'm doing the best thing for her. She's happier away from her mother – and it stings.

Close behind those heart-breaks, is the man who did the separating. The only man I've allowed to break my heart more than once. Grace's father – Sam Strachan.

Yes. I know what that kind of heart-break feels like.

I now know that there is another kind. A kind of heart-break I've never met before. This one is physical – and altogether more deadly. I didn't believe the Cancer could actually kill me – not until now.

When the effects of the Chemotherapy started kicking in, it occurred to me that I might not be as indestructible as I thought. Well – I suppose I did think that before, briefly, when I had a dangerous clot in my dominant arm. Ethan sorted it out though, so I just buried my head in the sand again. It was easier to carry on being the strong woman everyone's used to.

Ever since I started my treatment, I've just felt weaker and weaker, despite pretending it's not happening and trying to carry on as normal. Now, Ethan tells me that I've succumbed to an infection – something he's warned me about more times than I can remember. I repeatedly ignored him, but he was right.

I asked him to call me a cab to the airport when I came round, but he says I was admitted as an inpatient while I was unconscious. I'm going no where.

I haven't seen Grace for months now – not since Sam ripped her from my arms. We haven't been face-timing either, because once I started Chemotherapy, I looked awful. I didn't want her to notice when we were so far apart. I didn't want her to worry – or Sam. I suppose I didn't want him to worry either – not that he would. I'm no longer sure whether he cares about me or not. That sounds weak too. I was so angry with him before, but I no longer have the time or energy to be angry.

This was the reunion Grace and I were longing for – though Grace knows not, the cruel manner in which she was taken from me. She's still under the impression that it was a willing sacrifice on my part. It was certainly a sacrifice – willing or not. Still, better for her to go on thinking that, if I'm not going to be around. I can't have Grace hating her father when he's all she's going to have.

I wanted to give Grace the Christmas she's always wanted. Her Mum, her Dad and her. I wanted her to have that, especially if it's the last chance I get – and it could well be. It's more than that though. Like I said, I've just felt weaker and weaker.

'Weak' is not usually a word associated with Connie Beauchamp. I'm a matriarch.

Spending Christmas with Grace was either going to be the last time I saw her – or it would give me the strength I need to fight this, because I can't fight it any more – not on my own. Grace is already in Colorado with her Dad, waiting for me. Seeing her was going to be my saving Grace.

"Ethan told us."

Those three words devastate me - because now the whole ED knows my secret. I've lost face – my reputation for being a super-human, able to withstand anything. On top of that, I'm not allowed to leave – and I can't fight this any more, not without Grace. I very much fear that I'm never going to see my daughter again.

"Can you get Charlie back, please." I mumble, just before Ethan leaves me to my inevitable tears.

"Yes, of course Mrs Beauchamp."

I stare at the silver 'G' of the necklace in my hand. It sparkles at me. It was meant to be Grace's Christmas present and I thought I'd lost it. Ethan found it in my office. I had no reason to go to that squat – it was in my office the whole time. Still, I saved a young woman and her baby. Now I'm the one who needs saving, but I think that battle has already been lost.

"Connie – you asked for me, I believe?"

I remove the oxygen mask from my face – making sure that my wig stays on. I'm holding onto the little dignity I have, after my collapse in front of all my colleagues. "I need...a favour, Charlie."

He looks surprised - Connie Beauchamp doesn't ask for help. That must be blindingly obvious by now – if it wasn't already.

"Of course, Connie – anything."

I clear my throat feebly. "Sam...doesn't pick up my calls...any more – and I...don't know how...to speak to him...after the way...he left. Can't...can't tell Grace on the...phone-"

"You want me to ring Sam?" Charlie concludes.

"Need Sam to tell her...face-to-face...he's a heart surg-oen...he'll know...what to...say." I have to cover my face with the mask again and breathe in some more oxygen in order to continue. "I don't expect him...to drop everything, but tell him...no mat-ter what happen-ed between us-"

"Easy, Connie – you're not well." Charlie warns me as I put the mask back to my face. The talking is really taking it's toll on me – but I need to finish.

"Tell him...he's a good father and...I trust...his jud-gement...Up to him when...he tells her and...how much...Tell him to...look after her...for me."

"Ok, I'll ring him, Connie. Just rest now. You'll be going up to the ward soon. You need rest." Charlie tells me, replacing the mask on my face.

 **Sam**

I'm woken rudely from my lie-in by my phone ringing. I glance at the clock.

Who on earth would be ringing at twenty past six in the morning? We're meant to be on holiday.

I sigh irritably, searching under the discarded doctor's magazine on the bedside table for my mobile. It's an English number – of course, it's twenty past one – in the afternoon, in England. I put the phone to my ear, more than ready to bite the caller's ear off about forgetting the time difference – but I'm stopped in my tracks by the voice on the other end.

"This is Charlie Fairhead from Holby City Hospital – England." He adds, just to make it clear.

"Charlie, wh-?"

"I know it's early there, Sam – and I'm sorry about that." He pauses. "Sam, Connie has a left atrial Leiomysarcoma." He tells me – not beating about the bush. "I don't need to explain to you that it's serous – do I?"

"N-no." I stammer – otherwise lost for words. I haven't spoken to Connie since I left - other than a couple of unavoidable emails about this holiday, but never on the phone. I left purely to wind her up and I suppose I didn't know what to say to her afterwards. Her illness comes as a huge shock.

I suddenly jump into action having recovered. I'm up, drawing my quilt over the bed, so I can lie my suitcase on it. I'm throwing things into it willy-nilly – the mobile still pressed to my ear, when my bleary-eyed daughter appears at the door.

"Daddy, what's going on?"

"Hold on a sec, Charlie." I say down the phone. "Gracie, I need you to go and put your things in your suitcase – I'll come and explain in a minute, darling."

"Ok." She mumbles sleepily and disappears again.

"Sorry, Charlie – carry on. How bad is she?"

"Bad – Sam." He answers. "She's been ill for a while, but as usual, she's done her best to hide it up-to-now. Ethan said-"

"Ethan?!" I splutter, briefly stopping in surprise. "Wh-?"

"I'll tell you about that later – it's not important at the moment." Charlie cuts me off impatiently. "Ethan said she's had two rounds of Chemotherapy – and she continued working, so she has picked up an infection." He explains. "The rest of us only found out a couple of hours ago, when she collapsed in resus. She went into AF, Sam and Ethan was forced to reveal the illness she'd been hiding. She's devastated that everyone knows." He clears his throat and the distaste is obvious in his voice as he continues. " However, Connie has asked me to inform you for Grace's sake, that she has been admitted to hospital – and is therefore unable to visit you in Aspen."

"Doesn't matter – we're coming over."

"She said she doesn't expect you to drop everything and come over." Charlie informs me.

"What?" I stop again.

"She said that she can't tell Grace over the phone and needs you to do it face-to-face. Look Sam – we don't yet know the whole situation – Connie needs to rest tonight, and they're going to do more tests in the morning. We'll have a better idea then-"

"Well, we're coming anyway." I tell him firmly, continuing to pack.

"Good." He answers. "Connie asked me to give you a message, Sam – she said that no matter what's gone on between you two, you're a good father and she trusts your judgement in this. You're to tell Grace whatever you think is best – and whenever you think it's right to do so."

" 'Whenever'?" I repeat indignantly.

Charlie sighs. "I think she was suggesting that you let Grace enjoy Christmas first."

"I'm not going to wait until after Christmas, Charlie." I retort loudly. "Anyway, Grace is packing and she's knows something is up."

Grace appears at the door again – fully dressed. "Daddy, I'm all ready– what's happening?"

"You better go, Sam." Charlie tells me – obviously hearing Grace in the background. "I'll ring you again when I have more information, ok."

I motion to Grace after putting the phone down on the bedside table. "Come here, sweetie."

She perches on the edge of the bed. "Is it Mummy? - Is she not coming – are we going to see her instead?"

"Yes, we are going to see her." I agree, taking her hand. "Gracie, I need you to be very brave, ok-"

She scrunches her face up, suggesting that the tears are not far away. "What's happened to Mummy?"

"Mummy's very poorly." I explain gently. "Do you remember when you were told about Daddy having Cancer?"

"Yes, but you're ok now." She whispers. "Does Mummy have Cancer?"

"Yes, Mummy has a different kind of Cancer, sweetie. She has a tumour in her heart." I say quietly. "The doctors are looking after her. I don't know much at the moment, but Charlie says that she's been ill for a while."

"Wh-why didn't she tell us?" Grace stammers.

"Because Mummy thinks she can cope with everything on her own, sweetie." I answer. "She probably didn't want to worry you. But we're going to the airport to get a flight to England to see her."

"How bad is she, Daddy?" She whispers.

"I don't know much yet, sweetie." I explain. "All I know is that she has had Chemotherapy – which makes the body weaker as a side-effect, so Mummy's got an infection that's making her more poorly. She's having a sleep at the moment – and then they are going to do more tests to see how she is. Charlie's going to ring us when they've done the tests."

 **Connie**

Ethan brings me a mince pie from the Christmas party and sits with me until I fall asleep again. He says that Charlie is going to come and see me later. I'm anxious to know whether he got through to Sam.

When I open my eyes again, Ethan has morphed into Charlie.

"I hope you don't mind, Connie – I sent Ethan hope." He tells me. "He looked exhausted." He pauses. "He should have told us you were ill – you should have told us."

"Don't blame, Ethan." I whisper. "I made him stay quiet."

"Anyway, I rang Sam." Charlie informs me. "And he's coming back with Grace."

I nearly burst into tears. She's coming back.

My saving Grace.


End file.
